


The Perfect Wife, The Perfect House

by MadKingV3rn0n



Category: WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Existential Crisis, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, Nosebleed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 09:28:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadKingV3rn0n/pseuds/MadKingV3rn0n
Summary: And you may say to yourself, "My God! What have I done?"Sometimes Wanda will let herself think about what she's done, even if it's only for a few moments.Spoilers for episodes 1-8.
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	The Perfect Wife, The Perfect House

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired and summary quote taken from the Talking Heads song, Once in a Lifetime.

Occasionally, at night, she would let the facade slip. It was nothing dramatic, the boundaries of her world still firmly intact, but sometimes at the back of her mind while the other's slept, their idle thoughts and dreams edging her on, she would think about the lie she had created. She would watch her husband, back from the depths of nothingness, as he would rest in their shared bed, none the wiser to the situation she created. Hell, even Wanda wasn't sure how she'd done it, transforming and creating the world around them into a out-of-bound bubble. It couldn't be real.

She still felt that she was standing in the striped lot that would be the foundation for their home in a trance, the deed clutched in her hand a broken plan for the life they could have had. Should have had. They would have built up around the cinderblocks that remained and make a home just like the one they were currently in. They would have planted a garden with its budding flowers and sprouting vegetables under Vision's watchful eye. He would have already calculated the exact time that they would be fruitful but he would still check in on them every day and tell her all about them. She would love it. She would love him.

A drip of blood dropped from her nose and onto her lips. The acrid copper tang was familiar to her, a reminder of their previous suffering at the hands of evil. It was just another reminder that this, whatever this was, wasn't real. 

Wanda grabbed a tissue off of the bedside table and dabbed at the blood. It would stop eventually but the constant headache that sat behind her left eye would continue to thrum.

The town collectively shifted in their beds and their dreams turned just a bit darker and a little sadder than before. Their hearts yearned for hope and for someone to hold them just a bit tighter.

The mental walls were brought back up as she slid back down in bed.

She was Wanda Maximoff. She was a not so normal woman living with her not so normal husband in Westview, New Jersey. It was the 1960s and they lived their lives together and happy.

Everything was exactly as it should be.


End file.
